


From the first time

by IdontlikeIobsess



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Beacon Hills hates Derek, Bottom!Stiles, Derek owns a company, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, John used to work for Derek, Lacrosse, M/M, Student!Stiles, The Sheriff is not a Sheriff in this one, Top!Derek, i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-01-10
Packaged: 2018-03-07 00:13:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3153557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdontlikeIobsess/pseuds/IdontlikeIobsess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one in which Stiles comes up with a great Idea to cheer up the town of Beacon Hills after the Hale Industries have closed and Derek Hale has fired half the population, and he ends up becoming one of the stars of the lacrosse team and falling in love with the most hated man in town.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From the first time

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't tag this as Underage because Stiles and Derek share only one brief kiss at the beginning when Stiles is still 17. During the rest of the story Stiles is 18. I still wanted to warn you, though :)

It wasn’t their intention.

Not really.

Everybody asked later, when the local newspaper started talking about them and the people recognized the team on the streets. _How did you do it? How was it even possible?_ Stiles couldn’t answer with the truth, of course, so he smiled and nodded beside his proud father, high-fiving and exchanging jokes with people he didn’t really know before the town of Beacon Hills clung with sheer force to their only source of entertainment during that tough year. In September, when the lacrosse madness really begun to show its effects, everyone seemed happy. The jobless men cheered the team on when they trained after school while their wives worked the double shifts to raise enough money for their children, but everyone was always smiling and telling them how good they were so Stiles thought it couldn’t be that bad, what they were doing. It was just for a year, right?

They’d have better make it count.

 

*

 

Like everyone in town, Stiles hated Derek Hale. Everybody knew he was a jerk before, but he became a monster when the Hale Industries announced the bankruptcy. After that new and before Stiles had The Idea, Beacon Hills was on the verge of a collective desperation. As Stiles’ dad liked to repeat every time they had dinner together, more than half of the male population in town used to work for the Hales and now more than the 80% of the families in Beacon Hills were struggling to pay the bills. All because of Derek Hale.

Before Stiles had The Idea, things were tense in the Stilinski’s home. His Dad had worked every single day in his life and he couldn’t accept to stay home doing nothing, waiting for his son to come back from school. At first, he tried to find another job with the usual optimism that his Dad had always had. He’d spend entire days hunched over the kitchen’s table, highlighting job requests of every kind on the newspaper or he’d wait for an e-mail to arrive after he’d send CV after CV. Then, he started to spend his time in front of the TV, the newspaper still in his hand but this time open at the sport section. Stiles tried to help in any way. He went to school, he trained with the team, he went back home. He made dinner, he did the dishes and he sat on the couch beside his father to talk about his day. His Dad never said anything about himself, simply because he had nothing to tell. He couldn’t find a job and he had a teenage son to send to college, he had to pay the bills and Stiles’ Jeep needed gas, but he was nearly 50 and no one seemed willing to hire him anymore. Two weeks before The Idea, Stiles found his Dad locked in the garage, rummaging through old cardboard boxes with faded black letters on the front. The biggest one had the word _Stiles_ written with his Mum’s handwriting, Stiles ’old toys sticking out from the edges : a teddy bear with one eye, a red car, some toy-soldiers. The one his Dad was looking into said _John_ and all the things that it contained were spread across the floor in a messy trail.

“What are you looking for?” Stiles asked, grabbing his Dad’s first uniform from the Hale Industries. The nametag said John Stilinski and it was a dull blue with a white collar, a little too tight for his Dad now that he was older. He stepped closer to his father to see what he was doing, avoiding the mess on the floor.

“Found it!” John said, throwing his arms up in the air. “I knew it was in there.”

He was holding a dusty DVD that Stiles remember from his childhood. When he was 7, his Dad had tried to teach him how to play chess, giving up when Stiles showed more interest in throwing the pieces at the window rather than learning how to play. That old DVD had been one of the methods John had tried with him, trying to catch Stiles’ attention showing him a chubby man teaching chess techniques on a big chessboard on the wall.

“I’m a little rusty but I think I could be good again if I watched this, don’t you think?” John asked, closing all the boxes he had opened and shoving them in their places. “I was pretty good a few years ago. Maybe it’s time I try again.”

“Do you want to start playing chess again?” Stiles asked. He helped his Dad with the boxes and grabbed the DVD from the floor. The same chubby man was staring at him from the cover, smiling and pointing at a pretty chessboard. “Why?”

“Chess is good for the brain, Stiles!” John said. “Do you know that all the most successful people in the world know how to play chess?”

“I—I don’t think they’re successful because they play chess. Maybe it’s just a coincidence.”

“Well, one is chance, two is a coincidence—”

“Three is a pattern. Yeah, yeah, I know.”

“I even found the chessboard we used to play with,” John said, pointing at a black box on the floor. He smiled and grabbed it along with a little bag with the pieces. “I’ll be inside,” he said, disappearing into the house.

 

*

 

Isaac’s Dad and both Boyd’s parents worked for the Hale Industries. Isaac told him how his Dad had gotten violent after he had lost his job and Boyd told him that even if his family didn’t want to upset him, he knew that things were so bad that he had to find a job after school as soon as possible. Scott’ Mum was a nurse at the local hospital, but his family had always struggled with money so he understood perfectly what his friends were going through.

Lacrosse training with Coach Finstock was the only thing keeping them from going crazy. As everyone else in town, Coach knew very well what had happened with the Hale Industries but he tried to cheer everyone up with his endless talking and sassy insults. The team wasn’t very good, but he pushed them until they were too busy breathing properly to think about Derek Hale and the bankruptcy. Three times a week, Stiles could finally laugh and forget for a while about his dad’s gloomy mood, about his new obsession with chess and about the bills that were piling up on the coffee table.

“Stilinski, stop looking like you’re about to fart!” Finstock yelled from his spot near the bench. “If you’d actually play, maybe the team wouldn’t suck so bad!”

“Hey! We’re not _that_ bad!” Scott said from the goal, trying to catch the balls that their teammates were throwing at him. He swung his stick up and down, catching only three balls. Stiles snorted and lined up with the other boys. He was pretty convinced that the funniest thing about training was watching Scott, Isaac and Boyd holding back and using only half of their actual werewolves strength and coordination. It would have been strange if three players became overnight lacrosse sensations after being less than average for three years. Neither of them wanted to play lacrosse professionally anyway, they just played for fun, so they didn’t need to show off during actual matches. They were good with winning without playing dirty, so they knew that every point they made had nothing to do with the supernatural.

Finstock sighed and walked closer to the team, playing with the whistle around his neck. “We have the last game of the year next week. I know this season wasn’t exactly a success for the Beacon Hills’ Wolves, but I want every single one of you fuckers to do your best out there, okay? The whole town will be here, so I say we should at least try to lose without embarrassing ourselves.”

The whole team nodded, slightly worried about their last game. Coach Finstock was right. Beacon Hills wasn’t known for its lacrosse team, but everyone on the bleachers would have wanted to see an exciting game to end the season in the best way.

The question was, _were they good enough?_

*

 

Three nights later, Stiles asked The Question that started The Idea. “What if we cheat?” he whispered in the dark of Scott’s bedroom, pressed against his best friend in the too little bed. Isaac and Boyd were on the floor, inside two old sleeping bags Scott had found in his garage.

“We cheat at what?” Boyd asked.

“At lacrosse,” Stiles said. He heard the gasps of his friends from where he was laying on the bed, so he started talking again before they could protest. “Wait, hear me out. It’s the last game of the season, right? Everyone in town is in a shit mood because half of us lost their jobs, and the Hale Industries won’t open again anytime soon. What if we cheat just this time? You guys use your wolf powers and do a little somersault here and there, we win the game and everyone’s happy at least for one night. What do you think?”

Scott hummed next to him. “It’s not your worst idea.”

“Hey, I have the greatest ideas,” Stiles protested. He elbowed Scott in the ribs and shuffled on the bed. “Isaac? Boyd?”

“I don’t want to risk anybody finding out about us,” Isaac said. “But if it’s just for one night, maybe we could do it. At least my Dad won’t shout at me for being a shitty player.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right, Stiles,” Boyd agreed. “Just one night though, okay? I don’t need a bullet in my heart if somebody finds out I can turn into a wolf during full moons. My life already sucks as it is.”

“Great!” Stiles almost shouted. He was vibrating in Scott’s bed thinking about his Dad smiling at him from the bleachers, away from the damn chessboard.“Thank you, guys. Trust me, it’ll be awesome. Finstock won’t believe his eyes.”

 

*

 

“Danny, are you sure this is good idea?”Stiles asked, playing with the hem of his shirt outside the club. He looked at the crowd around them, the hot guys dressed to impress for the night. Everyone seemed so out of his league that he was having second thoughts about convincing Danny to take him to _Jungle_.

“Actually, it was your idea. _Please, Danny, find me a boyfriend! Please, Danny, introduce to your friends! Please, please, please_.”

“Okay, okay, you’re right,” Stiles admitted. He watched Danny wink at the bouncer at the door as they walked in without troubles. “So, what do I do? Should I wait for someone to hit on me or should I make the first move?”

Danny rolled his eyes. “You should stop looking so desperate, Stilinski. My boyfriend is at the bar. Can I trust you and leave you here? Promise me you won’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Stiles put one hand on his chest. “Promise.”

He watched Danny make his way across the bar, smiling and winking at the hot guys moving on the dance floor and then kissing an older guy who Stiles knew from Danny’s Facebook page. Stiles walked closer to the centre of the room, moving his body awkwardly with the music. He made a tentative smile at a cute guy with blond hair, who ignored him without a second glance. He tried to wink—just like Danny had done—at a shirtless guy with a mohawk, but he was turned down again.

Stiles kept dancing. Fuck the other guys, he could still have fun on his own. He forced an happy expression on his face and let his body loose, following the actual rhythm of the song while he moved on the dance floor. Stiles knew that he wasn’t the most attractive of the guys inside the _Jungle,_ and with the music at full volume he couldn’t impress anyone with his wit and dry humor, so maybe going out with Danny hadn’t been a great idea. He danced until the song was over and then approached the bar, where the bartender refused to give him alcohol and shoved him a coke instead. He grabbed his drink, sipping it while he scanned the dance floor again.

“I hope you’re at least eighteen.”

On the stool next to Stiles’, a man was looking at him with a predatory glint in his eyes and a smirk on his lips. He looked like someone had cut him out of a fashion magazine and had given him the ability to walk and talk and look hot with his leather jacket and the greatest pair of jeans Stiles had ever seen.

“I—uh. What?”

“I said, I hope you’re at least eighteen or else I’ll have to behave and not kiss you tonight,” the man said.

“What makes you so sure you’re going to kiss me?” Stiles asked, smiling back at the man.

“So you’re eighteen, after all.”

“Maybe. Do you want to see my ID?”

The man smiled again, sliding closer to Stiles. He nosed at Stiles’ throat, sending shivers down his spine. “You’re cute.”

“Well, you’re hot,” Stiles blurted out. He pressed a hand to his mouth, too ashamed to look at the stranger in the eyes. The man still had his nose buried in Stiles’ throat, so it wasn’t his fault if he couldn’t act like a normal person. “I mean, I—”

“See? You’re cute,” the stranger said. “Do you maybe want to continue this conversation outside? I hate this music.” He leaned away from Stiles, watching him with his eyes half-closed.

“Yeah, sure,” Stiles said, standing up from the stool. He took a deep breath and grabbed the stranger’s hand, flashing him a smile. “Let’s go outside.”

 

 

The man pressed him up against the wall, kissing him deep and dirty like Stiles had always dreamt about, strong hands on his hips and firm lips on his mouth. He wondered if maybe his inexperience showed, but the stranger didn’t have problems smashing their mouths together, so Stiles pushed away his concerns. He broke the kiss and gasped for air, sending a sheepish look at the hot man in front of him.

“Sorry, I—I’m a little out of practice,” he stuttered. “What did you say your name was? I know you’re hot—I already said that—but I think it’s only fair if we knew each other’s name, don’t you think?”

The man put a finger on his mouth and kept kissing his neck. “I’m Derek,” he whispered against the soft skin. “What’s _your_ name?”

“I’m Stiles. Wait, did you say Derek?”

Stiles stopped his hands from squeezing Derek’s ass and his whole body stilled. He noticed for the first time that Derek’s jeans were expensive ones and the leather from his jacket felt real under his hands. Derek’s shoes seemed Italian and Stiles was pretty sure the bracelet on his wrist was pure gold.

“Yes. Do you want me to spell it or do you think we can go back to kissing?”

“Oh god,” Stiles said. He scrambled away from Derek and stepped back, his face going slack with surprise. “You’re Derek Hale.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Yes.”

“You’re Derek Hale, the reason of all my problems right now!”

“Your problems? What are you talking about?”

“You—you fired my Dad! You’re the reason the Hale Industries are closed and you’re wasting your time hooking up with...me? Are you insane?” Stiles hissed. “Because of you, I’m still not sure if I can go to college. Because of you, the whole town is going crazy! God, I can’t believe you’re standing there looking so... _hot_ and unimpressed about everything.”

Derek snorted. “At least I’m hot.”

“Do you even know what you did?”

“How do you know it was me?”Derek asked, walking closer to Stiles. “You talk so well and you have all those pretty ideas about what I should be doing, but do you even know about how the Hale Industries worked? Do you have the slightest idea about how exhausting it is to run a company?”

“Well, I—I don’t really...”

“You don’t. Do you know how difficult it is to run a company with the global crisis? God, I’m sorry if I wanted to forget about all the shit I’m going through for just one night.”

Stiles snorted, facing Derek. “Poor baby, it must be so hard to be you. I can’t imagine how it is to lose one of your industries among your empire,” he said. “Everyone in Beacon Hills hates you, do you know that?”

“I don’t care about everyone. What about you, do you hate me, too?” Derek asked. His lips were just a few inches away from Stiles’, so close that Stiles almost felt an electric buzz between them.

“Yes,” Stiles said. He didn’t sound sure even to his own ears, but he kept looking at Derek anyway. “Everyone with a brain should hate you.”

“Well,” Derek started. He was calm and collected again, surrounded by that coolness he had when Stiles had first laid eyes on him in the bar. “I’ll go, then.”

Stiles startled. He wasn’t expecting Derek to give up so soon. “Wait, where are you going?”

“Back to my _palace_ ,” Derek said. “You’re clearly not interested. If you change your mind though, I’m definitely interested in _you_.” Derek fished Stiles’ phone out of his pocket and typed a few numbers in. “You have my number, now. Goodnight, Stiles.”

 

*

 

The whole town was seated on the bleachers the night of the last match of the season. Stiles swallowed hard when he spotted his Dad and Scott’s Mum waving at him, but he tried to plaster a smile on his face anyway. Everybody was wearing red—the team’s colour—and they were chanting something Stiles couldn’t hear.

“Are we still doing this?” Scott asked. Next to him, Isaac and Boyd nodded. Stiles shrugged, leaving the final decision to them.

“Good,” Scott nodded. “Come on, let’s win this game.”

 

*

 

After that last game, Beacon Hills changed.

The whole town had always been supportive of the lacrosse team, but even the people closest to the players could admit that they would have never be at the same level of the other schools. In three years, Stiles’ team had only won once against a team decimated by the flu, and even then they barely scored the last goal in time to secure the game. Stiles’ Dad was a big lacrosse fan, always coming to all the games, but he had resigned himself to enjoy watching his son play without actually winning or scoring.

So no one in town could believe it at first when they saw Scott catching all the balls in the net, Isaac and Boyd running fast and dodging the other players as if they were nothing and Stiles actually scoring a goal, running as fast as he could safely protected by two werewolves. Everyone believed the twelve goals, though. The bleachers went crazy and Stiles found himself lifted up from the ground, a screaming mass of people carrying him to the locker rooms. He saw Scott, Isaac and Boyd smiling at him from the ground, he spotted his Dad hugging Scott’ Mum beside Coach Finstock, he noticed every single person around him smiling and cheering together. For just one night, Stiles thought they had made the right thing. It was the last game anyway, right?

 

Coach Finstock called the whole team the very first day of their summer vacation, shouting through the phone that he wanted to see all of them at the school in half an hour. Stiles stumbled out of bed, grumbling about _summer_ and _free time_ and _no lacrosse_ , but he got dressed and picked up Scott so they could go together. Isaac and Boyd were already on the field talking to Danny, all three of them wearing a confused expression on their faces.

“I can’t believe he called us today!” Danny said, plopping down on the bench. “I thought it was a nightmare when my phone rang.”

The whole team nodded their agreement, sitting on the grass and on the benches waiting for Finstock. The school was empty and everything was silent, the exact opposite of the last time Stiles had been there, during the last match of the season.

“Do you think he suspects something about the game?” Isaac whispered to Stiles. Scott and Boyd tilted their heads and Stiles frowned, thinking about what his friend had said. “I mean, everyone could tell the difference between our last match and...well, every other match we played.”

Stiles shook his head. “I don’t know. I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

Finstock arrived jogging lightly, playing with the whistle around his neck. He stopped to a halt in front of the semicircle of confused and sleepy boys and took a moment to breathe. “I don’t know what happened the other night,” he started, looking at every single one of them. Stiles shared a worried look with Scott, already thinking about a credible excuse to tell. “I don’t know if it was a coincidence and—if it wasn’t— I don’t know how you did it, but let me tell one thing....it was fucking amazing!”

Stiles and the three werewolves beside him sighed in unison. Of course Finstock didn’t suspect anything, how could he? Now there were silly smiles on the other boys faces, most of them whispering between themselves and high-fiving their friends. Once again, Stiles convinced himself that they had done a good thing using the werewolves powers for just one night.

“Yeah, yeah, you did good, but don’t forget it was only one game,” Finstock said. “Last night I realized that now that the school is over you won’t train together for three months. I can’t accept that. You finally showed some decent moves after years... I’m not wasting this opportunity. You’ll be thrilled to know that I asked the Principal to let us train here during the summer, and guess what? He was so excited about your last game that he said yes!”

Stiles groaned. “Coach, but—”

“I don’t care, Stilinski! You finally scored a goal and you don’t want to keep training? I’d like to remind every single one of you that I’m also your econ teacher. Do you really want to fail econ and ruin your perfect GPA, Stilinski? McCall?”

“I’ll be here every day, if you ask me to, Coach,” Scott said. “I can’t fail econ,” he whispered to Stiles, shrugging. “And it’s not like we have something better to do.”

“That’s the right attitude, McCall!” Finstock said. “Good, I’ll see you tomorrow at eight. Now go and enjoy your last day of freedom.”

 

*

 

“I’ll fucking kill you, Stilinski,” Isaac hissed once they were in the school’s parking lot. “I can’t believe you put us in this mess.”

“Of course. Now this is only my fault, right? You didn’t seem to mind when Lydia Martin kissed you on the cheek the other night.”

Scott stopped them before they could go on. “What are we going to do now? I mean, are we going to play like humans or like wolves?”

“I’d say you should take it slow. You can train with Finstock and play a little bit better than you used to before the last game. Then, at the end of the summer, you’ll play again like you did the other night. This time, Coach will believe you’re good because you trained everyday for three months. Also, if the three of you play like I know you can, the whole team will improve. I mean, _I_ scored a goal.”

“You said it was only for one night,” Boyd protested. “Are you saying that we should use our powers next year?”

The three werewolves looked at him, waiting for an answer. “I don’t know, guys. These past few days have been really good, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” Scott agreed. “Allison finally noticed me.”

“I asked Erica out and she said yes,” Boyd said. “She couldn’t stop talking about my goals.”

Isaac smiled, probably thinking about Lydia. Stiles thought about his Dad finally leaving the chessboard alone to talk about lacrosse with him. He thought about the lady from the coffee shop in town not letting him pay for his latte that same morning. Maybe if they kept playing like they could, someone would have finally noticed him, even if no one had showed interest in him yet, girl or boy. The only person to ever show interest in him had been the most hated person in town, the reason why his Dad and half the town was home doing nothing. For a moment he thought about Derek’s number in his phone and he felt a need to text him, but he stopped himself. Even if Derek was beautiful and sarcastic and a really good kisser, Stiles didn’t want to think about him in _that_ way.

“So?”Stiles asked. “Are you in?”

Isaac, Scott and Boyd nodded around him. “It’s just one year, anyway,” Stiles said. “In twelve months we’ll be away from Beacon Hills and no one will remember about us.”

 

*

 

That summer, Stiles spent half his time playing lacrosse and the other half working as a waiter in a restaurant two towns over, because Beacon Hills had already too many men looking for a job. His Dad still couldn’t find a job, so he started working for free at the local library, just to not waste his days at home.

One July night, Stiles was serving his usual tables at the restaurant when a familiar figure caught his eyes. Derek Hale was hunched over a table with only a bottle of wine in front of him, a weird smile on his face and his eyes unfocussed and glassy.

“He’s drunk,” said Bessy, the girl who worked with him two nights a week. “He keeps asking for the most expensive wine we have. That is already the third bottle.”

Stiles snorted. He had to admit that at least Derek had some sort of self-preservation instinct choosing a restaurant that far away from Beacon Hills. Stiles was sure that Carl—the owner of the only restaurant in his hometown—would have spat on Derek’s face in an instant because his brother had lost his job at the Hale Industries.

“Can I take his table?” Stiles asked.

“He’s all yours. He’s starting to smell,” Bessy said.

Stiles walked over to the table and waited for Derek to acknowledge him in some way, but he kept staring at the half-empty bottle without moving. “I thought it was you,” Derek said , his eyes still fixed on the wine. “You look pretty even in a uniform.”

Stiles rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the blush on his cheeks. “Why are you so drunk, Derek?”

“Why do you care? According to you, nothing bad can happen in my little perfect world,” Derek said, finally looking up at Stiles. His eyes were still glassy, but now that they were on Stiles there was a glint in them. “You didn’t text me.”

“It must be a first for you.”

Derek let out a brief laugh. “ You’re cute _and_ funny. How come you don’t have a girlfriend...or boyfriend?”

“How do you know I’m single?”

“You wouldn’t be here flirting with me,” Derek said, shrugging. He grabbed the bottle to pour himself another glass of wine, but Stiles stopped him. “I’m not flirting with you,” Stiles forced himself to say. “You should stop drinking. Do you want me to call a cab?”

“Thank you for your concern but I own a car,” Derek said. “What time do you get off?”

“Why? Do you want to wait for me?”

“Maybe. Would you like me to?”

Stiles thought about it. During the past month he had been lonelier than ever. Scott, Isaac and Boyd had all found a girl to date while he was still desperately single. He came back home only to sleep and he was out again in the morning to train with the team. He barely saw his Dad.

Needless to say, everyone in Beacon Hills hated Derek. But the more he thought about it, the more Stiles realized that everyone talked about him without actually knowing him. Everyone accused him for the sudden and unexpected bankruptcy, but no one realized that where they had lost a job Derek had lost millions of dollars. Stiles was curious about him and couldn’t help but wanting to know him better.

“Maybe,” Stiles smiled. “You should wait here.”

 

*

 

Derek drove them to the look-out point in Beacon Hills. Now that it was dark and the roads were empty, Stiles wasn’t afraid of someone seeing him jumping out of his Jeep and getting in a classy Camaro with a good-looking stranger. Everything was silent when Stiles perched himself on the hood of the car, joined by Derek after a few seconds.

“So...congrats for the game,” Derek said, shooting Stiles an amused glance. “The _Beacon Hills Gazette_ talked about it for a week. You were really that bad?”

“God, don’t talk about lacrosse. Coach is making us train everyday under a threat,” Stiles said. He tilted his head to look at Derek and noticed the way Derek was staring at him, his eyes now clear and sparkling in the moon light.

“It shows.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Please.”

“It’s true! If I didn’t already know that you hate me, I would have tried to kiss you,” Derek said, stroking Stiles’ hair. He drew circles on the back of his head with his fingers, making Stiles close his eyes. “I’m sorry for your Dad and for all those people. I really am. But—”

“No,” Stiles interrupted him. “You’re doing so well, Derek. I don’t want to know why my Dad got fired or why he can’t find a job because the economy is shit. Keep doing what you’re doing and talk about something else.”

Derek huffed. “Fine,” he said. “ You look beautiful, do you know that?”

“I think you’re still drunk.”

“I hoped to find a text from you for weeks. I knew you wouldn’t have texted me—not when you were so clear about what I have done to you. But—still—I hoped.”

“God, you’re cute,” Stiles said. “My Dad would kill me if he knew how much I want to kiss you again.”

Derek smiled and shuffled closer to Stiles. “Can I ask you out on a date?”

“Not here in Beacon Hills. The whole town will kill you and then me,” Stiles sighed. “And I work every night, I don’t exactly have a lot of free time.”

“We could do lunch,” Derek said. “I know this place in—”

“I have lunch with my Dad every day,” Stiles said. “It’s the only time I can see him. Sorry,” he added. “I probably sound like a loser.”

“You’re everything but a loser, Stiles,” Derek said. He still had his fingers in Stiles’ hair, stroking and drawing soothing circles. “I’ll see you tomorrow after you’re done at the restaurant, then.”

“What?”

“I know you’ll probably be tired. I promise I’ll keep you for just one hour.”

Stiles smiled. “Are you really doing this?”

“I’m not what everyone thinks, Stiles. I may have made mistakes, maybe I even trusted the wrong people. But I never wanted to close the company and fire all those people. If you’ll give me time, I can try and make things a little bit better for everyone,” Derek said. He dropped his chin on Stiles’ shoulder and pecked his neck. “Just—don’t hate me because everyone else does. I want you to have your own opinion about me.”

Stiles nodded. “I can do that.”

“Good,” Derek said. “I’m taking you back to your Jeep now. Do you think you can text me, this time?”

Stiles laughed and enjoyed the last touch of Derek’s hand on his head. He definitely could.

 

*

 

Y _ou can’t spend a whole week waiting for me after work and then disappear to New York for three weeks_ , Stiles typed, _it’s just not fair._

 **I have some things I need to do here** , Derek replied. **How was your training?**

_Finstock is shitting himself because we’re playing well now. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him more excited._

**He wants to win** , Derek replied. **Look, I have to go and talk to my uncle now. I’ll call you later, okay?**

_Perfect_

Stiles dropped his phone on the library desk and waited for his Dad to finish with the books he was stacking. Derek had waited for him outside the restaurant for a week, spending a few hours with him in the silence of the look-out point, where they were safe from curious eyes. They had talked about everything but the Hale Industries and Stiles’ Dad, sharing little facts about themselves in the soft moonlight.

His phone lighted up with another text from Derek. **Look in your car when you have time. You might find a surprise.**

Stiles sat through his lunch with his Dad thinking about the surprise Derek had told him about. He listened to his Dad rant about the lack of job and about Derek Hale and his filthy rich family that didn’t give a damn about normal people like them. Stiles thought that Derek was one of the most normal people he had ever met. When he was alone in the Jeep again, Stiles searched his car for the present, folding himself to look under the seats. Finally, he fished a bright red envelope with a bow around it, _Stiles_ written in neat letters on the front.

_Stiles,_

_You don’t know how much I don’t want to hop on that plane and go to New York. Even if everyone hates me in Beacon Hills, I think I may have found one person willing to know me better before judging me or my family. So, I wanted to thank you for being not only cute_ and _funny, but also smart and sweet and a sarcastic little shit when you really want to._

_I noticed that most of the times you can’t find your car keys because you don’t have a key ring. I hope you like the present._

_D—_

 

The key ring was an exact replica of Stiles’ baby blue Jeep, so detailed that he couldn’t stop staring at it. He hung his car key to the key ring and started the car to go home and change to get ready for work. Suddenly, he felt an ache in his chest because he knew that Derek couldn’t be with him that night after his shift at the restaurant, because he couldn’t thank him in person for his little present.

 _I love it_ , Stiles typed on his phone. He attached a photo of his new key ring and sent it to Derek. _I’ll miss you tonight._

*

 

A week before school started again, Stiles walked outside the restaurant feeling so tired that he had trouble keeping his eyes open. He fished his car key inside the pocket and walked to the Jeep, stumbling on his way. Through his tired eyes he noticed a figure leaning on his car, his arms crossed on the chest.

“Look at you,” Derek said. “Damn, I missed how you look when you’re tired.”

“Derek?” Stiles said. He walked the last steps between them and hugged him, burying his face in Derek’s chest. He inhaled and felt suddenly better, not so tired anymore. “I thought you were going to be back tomorrow.”

“Yeah, but someone kept whining about being lonely—”

“Hey, it’s not my fault if all my friends have girlfriends now!”

“I think it was your way to tell me you missed me,” Derek smiled, looking down at Stiles. He put a finger under Stiles’ chin to look at him in the eyes. “You should tell Finstock to fuck off. You trained and worked all summer. You look exhausted.”

“Can’t,” Stiles said. “It’ll be over next week, anyway. We’ll go back to three trainings a week. How was New York?”

“Stressful,” Derek said. “How was Beacon Hills?”

“Boring as ever.”

They sat in the backseat of Stiles’ Jeep for a while, talking about the weeks they had spent apart. Stiles listened to Derek talk about New York with his head on Derek’s lap, his eyes closed. Then, Stiles talked about his friends and their new girlfriends, about his Dad volunteering at the library, about school starting in a week. “I’ll finally be a senior,” Stile said. He sat up and wormed his way under Derek’s arm, breathing deep.

Derek stilled beside him. “You weren’t really eighteen when we first met,” Derek said.

Stiles smirked. “What? It was just a kiss, Derek! You didn’t do anything wrong and I enjoyed every second of it. Plus, I’m eighteen _now_.”

“Really?” Derek said. “I should kiss you again then, just to be sure.”

Stiles lifted his head, looking straight at Derek. He smiled, encouraging him to do the first move, watching Derek’s lips twitch in anticipation. When the kiss came, Stiles felt how much Derek had really missed him in every single touch they shared. After months, Derek’s hands were once again on Stiles’ hips, pushing him down on the backseat, stroking the pale skin just over his belt.

“I thought you would have left me drooling after you forever,” Derek whispered into Stiles’ neck. “I thought about you every day since we met in that bar. You’re so—you’re so different from everyone I’ve ever met.”

Stiles sighed under Derek’s touch, lifting his shirt up a little bit more. “Missed you so much, Derek.” He put his hands under Derek’s shirt, touching the soft skin of his back and enjoying the playful bites Derek gave him. Stiles pushed Derek back up when it got too late, worried that his father might wake up and call him.

“Today was my last shift at the restaurant. I’ll start school next week so we can go out sometimes, if you want? Not in Beacon Hills but, you know, somewhere else,” Stiles said, righting his shirt and pushing Derek out of the Jeep. He kissed Derek’s knuckles before he let go of his hand, smiling up at him before closing the car’s door.

“Oh, so _now_ you want to go on a date?” Derek asked, smirking. “I’ll think about it.”

“Yeah, sure. As if you could resist me,” Stiles said. “Text me, if you want,” he added, replaying the same words Derek had said the first time they had met. “Goodnight, Derek.”

 

*

 

When school started, John took Stiles’ place at the restaurant, grumbling about how he was much more than a simple waiter. Finstock made sure to keep the team excited and ready for the first match in a few weeks, shouting in joy when Scott or Isaac or Boyd played like pros.

“The whole town has great expectations of you,” Finstock said at the end of the first training of the new school year. “You trained hard this summer and I want you to do your best, do you understand? I have a feeling this year we’ll do great things.”

Stiles groaned and look at his friends. He knew that Beacon Hills was supportive about the lacrosse team, but he didn’t think that everyone would be still hyped about a game happened months ago. He was wrong. A lot of people started showing up during the trainings, cheering and shouting tactical advice when they played. Stiles recognized most of them, jobless men still looking for something to do after the Hale Industries’ bankruptcy. They seemed happy though, full of hope for the young men of their town showing such an ability for the sport they loved so much. With the first game approaching, even the people who still worked in town started recognizing him when he walked on the streets. If he went into a shop, most of the times the owner gave him something for free to take home even if  Stiles insisted there was no need. The same thing was happening to Scott and the other guys of the team. For the first time since that game at the end of their junior year, Stiles felt the weight of the whole town on his shoulders. He saw in every man’s eyes the hope they had for them. The lacrosse team had became the only good thing left in Beacon Hills, a living proof that even underdogs like them could become lacrosse stars overnight.

The week before the first game, Stiles opened the _Beacon Hills Gazette_ to find an article about the team. There was a paragraph for each player and one of Stiles’ photo from his sophomore year stared right back at him from the first page. _Stiles Stilinski, a senior at the Beacon Hills High School, proved himself to be a great scorer for our local team if supported by Lahey and Boyd. He also has a perfect GPA and he’s one of the most promising students of our high-school,_ the newspaper said. He smiled at the awkward photos of Scott and Danny, reading their articles. When he was almost done with the entire team, Stiles’ phone buzzed in his pocket, a text from Derek. **You looked hot with a buzz cut.**

_I looked horrible_

**Hey, you’re one of the stars of the team. Should I be worried?**

_Maybe. This morning the lady from the coffee shop said she has a beautiful daughter_ , Stiles typed. _Maybe SHE will bring me on a date._

**I know, I know, you’re right. I have to take care of the mess I left behind. I promise we’ll go out soon.**

**Stiles?**

**Are you mad?**

_I could come to your house, if you want. We could have dinner together._

**I wanted to bring you somewhere nice. Are you sure you want to stay inside?**

_YES._

_I just want to see you again, you idiot._

**So romantic.**

**Come at 7. I’ll send you the address in a minute.**

Stiles smiled down at his phone, jumping into his car to go to school, already thinking about that night. He was dying to see Derek’s house and he couldn’t wait any longer to see and touch him again. He took notes at school and trained whit the team, but he couldn’t really concentrate. He kept thinking about Derek and the night they had ahead and how maybe, hopefully—

“Stilinski! What the hell are you thinking about?” Finstock yelled from his spot near the bench. “The first game is in a week! Do you want to share the bench with Greenberg?”

The little crowd of fans who watched every training stilled and frowned at him. “No, Coach. I want to play,” Stiles said. He saw Scott looking at him from the goal, silently asking if he was okay. Stiles shrugged, plastering a tentative smile on his face. He resisted through the training and then run into the lockers room, showering and getting dressed before the others could even start to undress.

“Where are you running?” Isaac asked. He took off his shirt and threw it inside his locker, looking at Stiles with a curious expression. Stiles knew he couldn’t lie, so he settled for a temporary truth. “I’m going home,” he answered. He was just stopping at home to get changed before going to Derek’s. Isaac tilted his head but didn’t detect a lie, so he let Stiles go. Stiles patted Scott on the shoulder before leaving the lockers room and jumped inside the Jeep, Derek’s key ring dangling from his fingers.

 _I know it’s 5 but I’m coming over in half a hour,_ he typed to Derek. _Sorry :D_

 

*

“Hey.”

Derek greeted him on the threshold of the biggest house Stiles had ever seen. It stood on the edge of the woods, completely surrounded by nature and bordered by a placid stream. Big windows dotted the front of the house, only the one on the top floor open.

“Hey yourself,” Stiles smiled. He leaned forward and kissed Derek on the lips, shivering when Derek put a firm hand on the small of his back to pull him closer. “You have an incredible house, you know? Do you always live here by yourself? I bet it can get lonely sometimes. Do you have any pets?”

Stiles couldn’t get all the questions spinning in his head out of his mouth fast enough. _Did Derek live there all the time? Did he have another house in New York?_ In that moment, standing in Derek’s living room, he realized that he knew very little about the most hated man in Beacon Hills. He trusted him enough to spend a few hours with him alone in his house, but he didn’t really know what Derek liked to do or why he was always so busy that he couldn’t take Stiles on a simple date.

Stiles looked up and found Derek smiling at him. “I can answer all your questions if you give me enough time,” Derek said. “Just—give me a second, okay? I’m going to put away the files I was working on before you arrived.”

Stiles followed Derek through the house, stopping when they were in what Stiles supposed was the room Derek used as an office, almost bare and simply furnished just like the rest of the house. A big wooden desk was on the left corner, buried under piles and piles of papers and mail. Stiles could barely spot an old laptop under all that mess, a few sticky-notes on the back of the screen. “I can’t believe I’m saying this but...you should keep your desk tidier,” Stiles joked. “How can you even find something you need?”

“Years of experience,” Derek said. He put a few papers in the desk’s drawers and dug out the laptop, closing it and reading the sticky notes for the last time. “Sorry, I read your text just a few minutes ago. I was trying to—”

Derek stopped, looking up at Stiles abruptly. He stepped away from the desk and closer to Stiles, taking the boy’s hand. “Never mind. I don’t want to bore you.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes at Derek’s sudden change, but decided he still didn’t have the right to put his nose in someone else’s business. “Right. I saw a great flat screen on my way here. Do you think we could maybe turn it on?”

“Sure,” Derek said. “Did you want to see something in particular?”

Stiles followed Derek back to the living room and fell on the couch. “Not sure. I’ll watch anything that can make me forget about my last lacrosse training,” Stiles whined, shuffling closer to Derek. “Coach was horrible today, and our little fan club isn’t so little anymore.”

Derek turned on the TV and left the first channel he found on, his attention completely on Stiles. “They just want to see you do good,” he said. “Did they say something to you?”

“What? You’re gonna fight them for me?” Stiles joked.

“If you want me to.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “They would eat you alive.”

At those words, Derek winced and stilled beside Stiles. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“No, you’re right. They would and they would be right,” Derek said. “Still, it’s not okay if they feel free to say something mean to you.”

“No, it’s not like that. It’s hard to explain but—I feel like they have so many expectations, we won’t be able to make them happy. I mean, we’re just an high-school lacrosse team.”

“I think they know that, Stiles. Most of those men have children in your school.”

Stiles paused for a second, dropping his head on Derek thigh. “Yeah, I’m aware but... I think this is all becoming too morbid. I mean, they spend their days hanging around the school instead of looking for a job! I know it’s not easy, but I feel like they aren’t even trying. I don’t know, maybe I’m just making everything up.”

“I don’t know, Stiles. Maybe they’re trying to find a distraction, you know? Give them some more time.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” Stiles sighed, looking up at Derek. “I wish you could come and see me play.”

“Maybe one day?” Derek whispered. He put one hand on Stiles’ cheek and stroked the soft skin there. “I’d like that.”

They shared a comfortable silence before Stiles remembered about all his questions about Derek’s life. “Do you mind if I ask you some questions? You know, just to get to know you a little bit better.”

Derek nodded. “I wouldn’t expect anything different from you.”

Derek lived in the big house alone. Sometimes his sisters visited, most of the times during the holidays, but they were both really busy in New York with the other branches of the Hale empire, so they didn’t spend a lot of time together. His parents were somewhere in Europe and he shared the ownership of the Hale Industries with his Uncle Peter before everything went to shit. He liked playing basketball even if he didn’t have a lot of free time.“I don’t have any pets because I wouldn’t have the time to look after them,” Derek said. “I’d like a cat, though.”

“Yeah, cats are the best,” Stiles drawled. Derek laughed, drawing small circles on Stiles’ head and making him lose his train of thought again. “Why are we talking about cats? You’re an interesting person, Derek Hale. Why were you drinking that night at the restaurant?”

“I—I’d rather not talk about it,” Derek said. “I don’t want to ruin our evening.”

Derek’s hand stilled on Stiles’ hand, only moving again when Stiles smiled up at him. “Okay, you can keep a few of your secrets.”

“Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat?”

“I’m always hungry,” Stiles said.

Derek made them dinner. They sat at the kitchen’s table, setting the plates with the food in front of them and eating in comfortable silence. “I promise I’ll bring you on a date,” Derek said. “I don’t want you to run away from me.”

Stiles blushed and hooked his feet around Derek’s calf under the table. “I think I can wait.” He moved his chair closer to Derek’s, smiling at him. “It’s just—I want to kiss you so bad right now.”

Derek closed the distance between them before Stiles could wire himself up anymore. He put his hand on Stiles’ cheek, stroking his skin softly, keeping the rhythm of the kiss. Derek bit down on Stiles’ lip, earning a moan from the boy, and then backed away, smirking at Stiles. “Well, I want you to spend the night here, but only some of us can have what they want. You should go home or your father will start to worry.”

“Yeah,” Stiles admitted. “When can I see you again?”

They stood up from their chairs, walking to the door hand in hand. “I don’t know,” Derek sighed. He leaned forward to kiss Stiles once again, brushing his bottom lips with his thumb. “I’ll text you, okay? I’ll let you know when I have more than ten minutes to spend with you.”

Stiles huffed but kissed Derek goodbye anyway. “Fine. In the meanwhile, I’ll be fighting for my life against Coach Finstock.”

 

*

 

The bleachers were an endless sea of red the night of the first game of the season, even more full than the day of the last match just before summer. Stiles stumbled on the field right behind Scott, sensing a sickening feeling of panic and anxiety that made walking a lot harder than it actually was.

“Don’t look so guilty, Stilinski,” Boyd said next to him. “We’ve already done this. You know we’ll win.”

“Yeah, your heartbeat is crazy,” Isaac whispered. “I already hear Finstock’s heart going a mile a minute. He really wants to win.”

“Yeah,yeah, sorry,” Stiles said. “Let’s get this over with, okay? The first game is always the hardest.”

The opposite team, some school from a few towns over, had really good players. The goalie, a guy almost as tall as Isaac, really did his best to keep his team alive, but there was nothing he could do against Isaac and Boyd’s killer shots. Stiles did his best to play like he knew he could. He had actually became a better player during the summer, thanks to Finstock’s incessant insults, and he wanted to make his Dad proud of him.

“I can’t believe all the summer training is actually working,” Danny shouted, running past Stiles. “ I’m gonna kiss Coach at the end of the game!”

Stiles smiled and looked around himself. Everyone on the bleachers was cheering and shouting happily as their team scored goal after goal. All his team mates were hyped and excited to see that their hard work was paying off in the very first game. _Stop feeling guilty_ , Stiles said to himself. He straightened his head up and tightened his hold on his stick, ready to face the built guy who was running towards him.

They won.

 

*

 

 _We won_ , Stiles texted Derek when he was back in his bedroom, the light of the phone screen shadowing his face.

 **Gosh, your excitement is killing me** , Derek texted back. **You should look in your mailbox**.

Stiles run out of his bed and down the stairs, careful not to wake his Dad. He unlocked the door and quickly reached the mailbox, grabbing a small box wrapped in blue paper. He put it under his armpit and run back inside the house and to his bedroom, hiding once again under the covers. He ripped the paper and opened the box. A thin, silvery bracelet slipped out of it, ending in Stiles’ lap. It had the word _Stiles_ carved on the back and it fit perfectly around Stiles’ wrist when he tried it on.

 _Derek, it’s beautiful_ , Stiles typed. _I love it <3_

_Even if I want you to know that I don’t need a present every few weeks._

**Glad I could make you happy.**

**It was nothing, really.**

Stiles smiled down at the words, feeling the by now usual ache in his chest that indicated he missed Derek. Despite what everyone said, Derek had proved himself to be one of the most kind and thoughtful person Stiles had ever met. It was getting harder and harder to go through meals with his Dad when he kept complaining about the Hales and the mess Derek had caused, but Stiles still understood why his Dad was so bitter. His job had meant everything to him, and now he had nothing. He wanted more than anything in the world to find an excuse for Derek, something he could say to his Dad to justify why he had suddenly lost his job, but he couldn’t think about anything right to say. On top of all of this, there was no way Stiles could talk to his Dad—or to anybody, really—about his relationship with Derek. He was on his own.

 **I’m free tomorrow** , Derek said. **Do you want to do something together?**

 _YES!,_ Stiles typed. _Like what?_

**Dinner and movie? I don’t know, I’m not really an expert in dating. I just want to spend some time with you.**

_Sounds perfect_ , Stiles texted.

He fell asleep with his phone still in his hand, smiling at the silvery bracelet Derek had got him.

 

*

 

Stiles had known since his freshman year that his senior year would have been brutal, but he would have never expected to be buried under a pile of homework after a month of school. He had always complained about his lack of a social life, but now that he was trying to balance school, lacrosse, his Dad and _Derek_ he asked himself everyday what the hell had he been thinking.

Beacon Hills’ people got crazier with time. The _Beacon Hills Gazette_ kept writing enthusiastic articles about the team, showing on their pages statistics and charts about the Beacon Hills Wolves as well as the teams from other schools. Stiles saw his face every time he walked down the hallways of his high school, smiling at the camera beside Scott and Isaac and Boyd. For the first time in his life, Stiles was popular. Everyone knew who he was and how many goals he had scored in the three matches that followed their first epic victory. Even some girls from his classes decided that he was finally worthy enough to date, but Stiles had to politely turn them down, all because the only person he could think about whenever he let his mind zone out during Chemistry was Derek. The thoughts about Derek came with a feeling of guilt towards his Dad, who was still working at the restaurant where Stiles had seen Derek again so many weeks ago and who was still convinced that the Hale’s youngest son was the main cause of his lifestyle right now. Maybe the only positive thing about the team having so much success, Stiles thought, was that his Dad now had two favourite things to talk about: lacrosse and his hatred for Derek. Every time they had the chance to have dinner together, John gave him advice about his next game, talking proudly about the time when he used to play lacrosse for the same school.

“You’re a good scorer, Stiles,” John said, turning off the TV. He had started doing that, ignoring the news or changing the channel when the journalists talked about the economy and how difficult it was to find a job. He didn’t look for jobs anymore, only buying the _Gazette_ to read about his son and his team. “If you could run a little faster, nobody would be able to stop you.”

 _I have to get out of this house_ , Stiles texted Derek, hiding his hands under the table. _Where are you?_

“I heard the kids from Garden Town are really good. There’s this boy I read about who came to their school this year. Everyone says he’s the best,” John added.

“I don’t think he’ll be able to beat Scott,” Stiles said. He looked nervously at his phone, waiting for an answer. “Or Isaac or Boyd.”

 **Good, because I need to get out of this house, too** , Derek replied. **See you in 30 minutes at the park? Same place?**

_God, you’re actually perfect._

 

*

 

The light wind made the swing set move slowly, making their secret spot in the park kind of creepy. The leaves on the ground were wet and dirty, and the tall slide looked rusty. The same merry-go-round that had been there since Stiles was a child made him feel old and a little nostalgic for a time when he didn’t have to leave his house in secret in order to spend some time with a person he liked. He couldn’t say he and Derek were dating, because that wasn’t something they had talked about, yet. All Stiles knew was that every time they were together he laughed and smiled, feeling more at ease than anywhere else in the world. Stiles sat on the swing, pushing himself up and down with his feet.

“Need a hand?”

Derek stopped him from behind and grabbed him around the waist, halting the swing and burying his face in Stiles’ neck. “I can push you higher.”

“I’m afraid the swing set will break if I go any higher. I can already hear it creak,” Stiles said. He took Derek’s hand and led him between his legs. He looked at Derek’s tense face and tried to smooth down the crinkles on his forehead.“Hi, there. Your Uncle has been pissing you off?”

“I don’t want to think about my Uncle when I’m with you,” Derek said. He moved forward, kissing Stiles slowly and stroking his cheekbone with one thumb. “Your Dad has been pissing you off?”

Stiles grinned. “I don’t want to think about my Dad when I’m with you,” he said. “But no, he was just talking about lacrosse. Shocker.” He leaned into Derek’s chest and dropped a kiss over his heart, holding back a laugh when he heard Derek’s intake of breath. “I missed you, you know. I keep thinking about you all alone in that huge house. I could keep you company.”

“I’d like that,” Derek said, slipping one hand under Stiles’ shirt. “You know you can come whenever you want. I know it’s not the perfect date, but you could do your homework while I work. What do you think?”

“I think this is the best thing I’ve heard all week,” Stiles said. “It’s not like I study with Scott anymore and this year we have just two classes together, anyway.”

“Yeah, because you’re the smartest.”

Stiles snorted. “You read about my GPA on the _Gazette_? I swear they made me smarter than I am.”

“I like that you’re smart, Stiles,” Derek said. “I like that you’re the only person in this town ready to give me a chance. I—I like you, that’s all.”

Stiles looked up at Derek and smiled. “Well, I like you too. You’re my favourite person in town right now.”

“Really? I’m better than Scott or your Dad?”

“They’re too caught up in their own things to actually talk to me,” Stiles said. “I think Scott had a double date with Isaac and Lydia tonight. I mean, it’s not like I want to be their fifth wheel or something, okay? But it would be nice if sometimes they asked me if I wanted to go with them, you know? Last week I had that huge hickey you gave me—I had to wear a scarf for a week, by the way—and they didn’t even notice!”

“Want to try again?”Derek said. He moved impossibly closer to Stiles and bit down on the tender skin of his neck. “Maybe if I suck harder, this time they’ll notice.”

Stiles gasped under Derek’s touch. After all those weeks together, he still hadn’t gotten used to the heady feeling that Derek’s mouth had on him, the powerful sensation he felt every time Derek touched him with lust in his eyes and want written all over his face. He still couldn’t believe that Derek Hale—the same Derek Hale that had fired his Dad—liked him enough to slip his hand inside his jeans, stroking his cock under the boxers. Stiles shivered, holding on to Derek’s shoulder to keep himself upright on the swing.

“I wish we didn’t have to hide,” Derek said, fisting Stiles’ erection and pumping slowly. “I wish I could spend Sundays in bed with you watching all the TV shows you like. I would make you breakfast, you know?”

Stiles felt his eyes prickle right before a single tear streamed down his face. “I wish you could meet my Dad. I wish you could come to see me play lacrosse,” he whispered, pushing into Derek’s hand in rhythm with the swing. He kissed Derek as he came, wetting his jeans and slumping against Derek’s chest.

Derek cleaned his hand on his jeans, smiling shyly at Stiles. “I’m working on it.”

“Really?”

Derek nodded. “It’s hard, and I know I made a mistake trusting the wrong people, but it’s not right that I’m not the only one paying the consequences. I want to make it right.”

“You keep saying you trusted the wrong people,” Stiles said. “Who are they? Maybe you should let them take the blame. Why did you let everyone think it was your fault? Derek, you were right that night outside the Jungle—I don’t know anything about how a company works or how is it to be the CEO, but you shouldn’t pay for something you did not do.”

“Thank you,” Derek smiled. He stepped away from Stiles and sat on the other free swing, looking down at his feet. “There was this woman—Kate—who used to work with me at the Hale Industries. She was brilliant and I trusted her, so I let her do a big part of the job without a lot of supervision. When I found out she had been stealing little amounts of money every month for years, it was already too late. She put the money in a safe account and run away somewhere in South America. All of a sudden, I didn’t have the money to pay my employees anymore. I fucked up so bad, Stiles. I—I let my family down. My sisters are doing great with their own branches of the company, but I was only able to fire a bunch of people and lose a lot of money.”

Stiles didn’t know what to say to make it easier for Derek. Even if it wasn’t his fault, he had been the one to trust the wrong person. Stiles realized that Derek’s mistakes were valued more than any mistake Stiles could have ever done, because his wasn’t the only life he had some sort of control on. “I—I think the most important thing right now is that you’re trying to make this mess better. A lot of people would have already moved on, especially if they were you. You could have find something better to do with all the money you have, but instead you’re still here trying to figure this out.”

Derek shot a sad smile at him. “How are you so wise? Are you sure you’re only eighteen?”

“Maybe you should call me Buddha Stiles. Walk me to my car, big guy?”

Derek kissed him goodbye pushing him against the door of the Jeep, holding on to Stiles’ hand as he stroked his hair. When they parted, he seemed a little bit more relaxed and less guilty, just a normal guy who had been forced to face something he didn’t even do.

 

*

 

Stiles placed the groceries on the counter, already thinking about what to make for dinner. Derek was back in New York for a week and his Dad was working a late shift at the restaurant, so Stiles had invited Scott over to his house.

“Hey, Stiles,” the cashier said. Sean—as the nametag said—was one of the school’s jocks, the star of the basketball team and one of the best students of their year, right behind Stiles and Lydia. He had never looked at Stiles twice during the four years they had known each other, at least not before the lacrosse team had become the most talked about topic in Beacon Hills. Sean passed a hand through his short blond hair and smiled at Stiles. “Are you having someone special over for dinner?”

“Just my friend Scott,” Stiles said as Sean started checking out his groceries. “I didn’t know you worked here.”

“Yeah, you know, after all the mess with the Hale Industries I thought I could help my family,” Sean said. “My Dad’s a big fan of yours. He always talks about your team and how good you guys are.”

“Well, thank him for me.”

“I will. Look, I know you’re busy tonight with your friend but...are you free tomorrow? There’s this movie and—”

“Whoa, wait a second,” Stiles said. “Are you asking me out?” He grabbed his bags from the counter, ready to run away. He didn’t want to go to the movies with Sean, he had already seen every single film with Derek because the theatre was one of the few places where they could spend some time together in peace. During the last Avengers movie, Derek had insisted they sat in the last row and Stiles had only understood why when Derek had sunk down to his knees half-way through the movie.

“Well...yeah?”

Stiles was baffled. He would have never thought that someone like Sean would have been into someone like him, but then again _Derek Hale_ was into him and Stiles had never complained. Stiles shifted in place, looking everywhere but at Sean.

“You’re really nice, Sean. But I can’t go out with someone right now. You know, between school and lacrosse, this year is already killing me.”

Sean’s face shut down, his mouth a thin line of repressed anger. “Sure, I understand,” he said, even if his face said the opposite. “Well, then. Have a good night.”

“Thanks,” Stiles muttered. He walked away quickly from Sean, jumping inside his Jeep.

 

*

 

“Scott?”

“Yeah?”

“Did someone try to hit on you lately? I mean, except for Allison.”

“Sure, all the time,” Scott said. “I can’t even go to the gas station anymore. Mr. Griffith keeps trying to hook me up with his daughter. Jane Perkins from my History class sends me notes when Allison sits right beside her!”

“Do you think it’s because now we’re good at lacrosse? I mean, because we’re cheating at lacrosse?” Stiles asked. It still felt risky to say it out loud, even in the privacy of his house and after 7 victories against the other schools.

“Of course it’s lacrosse, Stiles. Do you remember anyone paying attention to us before we started to win? Because I don’t,” Scott said. He sank down on the couch, shoving his feet under Stiles’ legs.

“Sean Bailey hit on me while I was grocery shopping.”

Scott spluttered. “What? That prick? You said no, right?”

“Of course I said no.”

“You said no because you’re already seeing someone else.”

It was Stiles’ turn to splutter. He stayed silent, knowing that Scott was able to hear his lies, and glared at him until Scott broke into a big smile. “Dude, I don’t care if you’re dating someone. I’m a little sad you didn’t tell me, but I can totally wait until you’re ready to talk about it.”

“Really? You’re not mad?”

“Maybe a little. But I know that you have a good reason to keep this for yourself,” Scott said. “Do I know him? I know it’s a guy, by the way. I can smell it on you. Have you—you know?”

“No!” Stiles said, blushing and hiding his face between his knees. “Not yet, anyway.”

Scott shrugged. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

 

*

 

After his conversation with Scott, Stiles couldn’t stop thinking about Derek and what the sex with him would have been like. He kept having those really vivid dreams at night where Derek kissed him deep and fucked him in the huge bed he had in his house. He was so lost in his fantasies that he didn’t notice his Dad staring at him with wide eyes after his morning shower. He kept whistling to himself, thinking about Derek’s hand on him, Derek’s tongue—

“Stiles?”

“Yeah?”

“You have a hickey on your neck,” his Dad said.

Stiles stopped half way between the bathroom and his bedroom, gripping tightly the towel around his waist. He turned slowly, facing the confused expression in his Dad’s eyes. He knew he couldn’t lie. It was clearly a hickey, almost completely faded after a week but still visible on the pale skin of his neck.

“I—I have a boyfriend? Kind of? We haven’t discussed it, yet.”

“Who is he?”

Stiles panicked. He knew his Dad wouldn’t have stopped with the questions until he had the answer he wanted, but he couldn’t tell him about Derek. He blushed, stuttering on his own words with all the frustration he felt. “I don’t know if you know him.”

“You could try and tell me his name.”

“Look, it’s just some guy from school, okay?” Stiles said. Then, an idea struck him. “His name is Sean. He’s in my Chemistry class and he plays basket.”

“Oh, the kid who works at the grocery shop?” John asked. He was more relaxed now that he had a face to go with the name, and he seemed genuinely happy for his son. “He seems like a nice kid.”

_Fuck,fuck,fuck._

“Yeah. Please, don’t go around asking questions, okay? I told you, we’re not that serious. I don’t want him to think I told you everything we did.”

John rolled his eyes. “Like I want to know. Don’t worry, kid. I won’t say a word.” His Dad winked at him and walked downstairs, leaving Stiles freaking out against the door of his bedroom.

 

*

 

 **I got you this from NY** , Derek texted. He attached a photo of a snow globe reproducing the most important places of the City, the little particles of snow slowly descending in the liquid. Stiles smiled down at the screen, typing back a response.

_It’s not fair that I have to go away for a lacrosse match the same day you’re back in town._

**Where are you?**

_I don’t even know. I slept all the time on the bus._

_I had very vivid dreams, if you know what I mean ;)_

**About me?**

_Yeah, about you, you idiot!_

_I dreamed about you giving me a blowjob on the swing set, and then about you fucking me into your bed. I dreamed about the first time we met and how hot you were in that leather jacket._

**Great, now I want to make ALL your dreams come true.**

**I want to fuck you in my bed and then kiss you until you fall asleep.**

_ARE WE SEXTING?_

**I don’t know, are we? God, I miss you so bad.**

_No, keep sexting!_

**Stiles** _._

_Still want you to fuck me._

**Okay. Win your game and I’ll think about it.**

_You make it so easy. We always win._

*

 

“You have a date with Sean?” John asked. “You look nice.”

 _I have a date with Derek_ , Stiles thought. _But Sean will do for you._

“Thank you,” Stiles said. “I’m not telling you where we’re going.”

“I’m not asking you.”

“Fine.”

Johns huffed and left Stiles’ room. “Fine,” he muttered.

 

*

 

They took Derek’s car from the Hale house, taking the highway and reaching the biggest mall in the Beacon Valley area. Stiles had planned every single detail of their date, from the frozen yogurt he was begging Derek to try to the new Game Stop shop he wanted to visit. Stiles intertwined his hand with Derek’s, leading him through the people wandering around.

“You look really nice today,” Derek said, nosing along Stiles’ jaw. He tightened his hold on Stiles’ hand and pulled him closer, shielding him from the crowd. “Everybody’s looking at you. Should I be jealous?”

“Dude, everybody’s looking at _you_.”

Derek shook his head. “Those jeans should be illegal on you,” Derek said. Stiles rolled his eyes, laughing at Derek’s ridiculousness. “You don’t believe me?” Derek said. “I’ll show you, then.”

He smirked at Stiles and smiled at a guy who was walking outside of a restaurant. “Excuse me,” Derek said. “Sorry if I’m taking your time, but I just want to ask you a question. This beautiful boy next to me is Stiles and I’m trying to convince him to be my boyfriend. But there’s a problem—he doesn’t believe me when I say he’s beautiful.”

The guy from the restaurant took a good look at Stiles’ red face, looking back at Derek after a few seconds. He shuffled on his feet and smiled at Derek. “So, what can I do for you?”

“Just ask my question,” Derek said. “Don’t you think he’s beautiful?”

The guy’s smile widened and he blushed under Derek’s scrutiny. “He is,” he said. Then he turned to Stiles, who was trying to hide himself behind Derek. “You look very nice today.”

“Thank you,” Derek said. “Maybe now he’ll believe me.” He grabbed Stiles’ hand again and waved at the shocked guy, who was looking at them with huge eyes.

“Are you crazy?” Stiles said. He tried to be serious, but he couldn’t stop the grin that was breaking on his face. “You can’t just ask random people what they think about me!”A chuckle escaped from his mouth, and Stiles tried to cover it with cough.

“I can ask every single person in this mall, if you want to.”

“Please, don’t. Maybe I’ll believe you.” Stiles said. “What was that thing about me being your boyfriend again? I think I need you to repeat it one more time.”

Derek grinned and pushed him inside the bathrooms, already unbuttoning Stiles’ jeans on his way.

 

*

 

“You were right,” Derek said. “This frozen yogurt is amazing.”

“I know, right?” Stiles said, shoving the spoon in his mouth. “I can’t believe you said you didn’t like frozen yogurt. I mean, who in their right mind—”

Stiles stopped mid-sentence, the spoon still hanging out of his mouth. “Fuck!”he said “Oh my god, my dad is here! We have to hide, we have to—”

“Stiles.”

Stiles looked up from where he was hiding his face in the frozen yogurt and forced himself to face his Dad’s furious face. He had his arms crossed on his chest, his eyes two sharp blue stones set on his son and Derek, who was sitting still in front of Stiles.

“Dad?” Stiles tried. “What are you doing here?”

“Melissa’s birthday is next week,” John said. “I’m looking for her present.” He looked down at Derek and grimaced. “I guess this is not Sean?”

“Sean?” Derek asked.

“Dad, listen. I didn’t mean to lie to you. If we could talk about this at home...”

“Please, tell me he isn’t who I think he is.”

The world seemed to stop. It was like the tension between Stiles and his Dad had stopped everyone in the entire mall, and the only people moving were the three of them. Stiles couldn’t breathe. He sat speechless on his little plastic chair without a word coming out of his mouth. He could only look in horror when Derek stood up and extended his hand.

“Sir, I’m Derek Hale,” he said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Stiles talked so much about—”

“Oh, now you’re calling me _sir_?” John spat. “I’m pretty sure I was just a number for you no longer than ten months ago! And you’re fucking around with my teenage son now? Do you think I’ll let you get away with this? He’s my only family. I’m not giving my son to Derek Hale.” John’s chest was heaving by the time he was finished, his words still hanging in the air.

“Sir, I swear I care about Stiles. He’s—he’s one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met in my life. I have no intention of taking him away—”

“I don’t trust you after all—”

“—If you could just let me finish, sir...”

“You know what? You’re not my boss anymore. I spent all these months hating you because I had lost my job. But now I can say it... Fuck you! Fuck you and all your family. Fuck the money you have and the control you think you have on everyone’s life. You don’t control my life, okay? And you won’t control my son’s, either.”

The most scary thing, Stiles thought, was that his Dad wasn’t yelling. He had hissed every word right in Derek’s ear, grabbing his shirt in a tight hold.

“Dad!” Stiles interjected. He put himself between Derek and his father, pushing John away from Derek. “Dad, please. I want to be with Derek. He’s—he’s...”

He looked at Derek then. They shared a desperate look before John could grab Stiles by his arm and drag him away from his chair, yanking him through the crowd. Derek tried to stop him, but Stiles shook his head, putting a hand to his ear to tell him to call him later. Stiles followed his Dad to the parking lot, slamming the car’s door behind him after he had jumped inside.

“I can’t believe you!”, John said. “You really thought you could go around with Derek Hale without me finding out? We literally live in the smallest town in California! Did you think that going to Beacon Valley would have been enough?”

Stiles was vibrating with anger. “I didn’t want to hide, but you gave me no other choice! You’re always talking about how Derek is such a jerk and how much you hate him, but you don’t actually know him, don’t you? Guess what? I know him. He’s been there for me for months and I—”

“Please, don’t say you love him.”

“—I love him, okay? I can’t help it!” Stiles yelled. “He’s not a jerk! He’s kind and funny and so damn smart. He’s trying to clean up a mess he had no role in, did you know that? It wasn’t him, but his co-worker!”

“I don’t care! He was the CEO, he was the one in charge!” John said. His face was red and the veins were visible on his neck.  “I’m working at a fucking restaurant because of him, Stiles! If you don’t get a scholarship, I won’t be able to send you to a good college! He’s just playing with you, don’t you understand? You can’t say you’re in love with him just because he was the first one to ever show some sort of interest in you.”

Stiles opened his mouth to argue back, but he closed it when he took in his Dad’ words. He fisted his hands and for the first time in his life he felt anger taking control over him, a red fog making his head dizzy. Only then John seemed to realized what he had said. “Stiles,” he whispered. “You know I didn’t mean that.”

“You didn’t?” Stiles said. “You were pretty convincing.”

“Listen, Stiles. You’re my son, the most important person in my life. I want the best for you. Derek Hale is possibly the worst person you could ever date,” John said. “ I don’t want us to fight, but I want you to stay away from him. Do you understand?”

 

*

 

 **I hope you don’t mind if I ate your frozen yogurt, too** , Derek texted him that night. Despite his Dad being mad at him, despite the huge fight they had just a few hours before, despite everything bad in his life in that moment, Stiles laughed.

 _Maybe it’s time for you to put on some body fat,_ Stiles replied.

**How are you?**

_I’m angry. I’m locked up in my room since we came back. I don’t want to talk to him._

Stiles could hear his Dad snoring in the bedroom down the hallway, a familiar sound that he couldn’t stand right now.

 **You should, though**.

_I can’t talk to him now. I’ll say things I’ll regret tomorrow._

_Thanks for acting like a civil person, though. And sorry for all the things my dad said to you. He was pretty creative today._

**What did he say to you?**

Stiles hesitated on the keyboard. _Nothing important,_ he typed.

**Talk to me.**

_He said I was attracted to you just because you were the first one to show interest in me in forever and that you were playing with me._

**You know that’s not true, right?**

**Right?**

Yes.

**Thank god.**

**I didn’t want your father to find out the way he did.**

**I wish I could be with you right now. I could slip through your window.**

_You could come._

_I’ll leave my window open. My Dad’s already asleep ;)_

**Your Dad will kill me.**

**I’m coming.**

*****

 

Stiles grinned at Derek as he climbed through the window. “You’re pretty athletic, you know? Not even Scott can climb up the wall so easily, and he’s been practicing since we were children.”

“I love you,” Derek said, a panicked expression on his face. “I love you and I don’t want to give you up, not even against your father. I know it’s selfish and I understand if you—”

Stiles launched himself at Derek and kissed him deep, throwing his arms around Derek’s neck. He kissed his lips and his jaw, his neck and his collarbones, until Derek was laughing silently against Stiles’ shoulder, finally calm again. “I love you, too,” Stiles said. “My Dad will change his mind about you.”

“I almost tracked Kate down. Maybe if she hasn’t spent all the money...”

“What?”

“I could get the money back? Start the Hale Industries again? I don’t know. Maybe I’m too optimistic, but I have to try. My family is coming to Beacon Hills in two months. I want to give them good news. I want your Dad not to hate me.”

“You try,” Stiles said, slowly unbuttoning Derek’s jeans. “But if you can’t track her down, if you know deep inside that you did everything you could have done—give yourself a break. Start over. My Dad will come around.”

He undressed Derek until he was wearing only his boxers, standing in the middle of his room. “We’ll have to keep our hands to ourselves tonight. My Dad is at the end of the hallway,” Stiles said. “I want you to know that you look fucking hot, though.”

Derek smirked. “So, we’re just sleeping?” he asked. “I’m fine with that.” He guided Stiles to the bed and let him climb in first, following him after a moment.

Stiles shuffled until he was facing Derek. “Just sleeping.” He stroked Derek’s mouth with his thumb, slowly kissing him after. “I already feel better now that you’re here. You’ll have to leave early tomorrow, though,” he said, kissing Derek’s collarbone. He bit down, making Derek whimper. “Love you so much.”

Derek put an arm around Stiles’ waist, pulling him closer. “Love you, too.”

 

*

 

“Stiles.”

“Mh?”

“Hey. I need you to wake up and listen to me for a minute, okay?” Derek said, stroking Stiles’ hair with one hand. Stiles rolled on his side and faced Derek, his eyes half-closed and sleepy. “Peter texted me during the night,” Derek said. “He tracked Kate down. She’s in Guatemala right now, and I have to catch the first flight to take care of this mess.”

“You’re leaving?” Stiles mumbled. “When will you be back?”

“I don’t know. Soon, I hope.”

Stiles hid his face in Derek’s chest. “Be careful, okay? I bet she’ll be ready to do anything to keep the money,” he said.

“You’ll be okay? With your Dad, I mean?”

“I don’t know. I’ll try?” Stiles said. He looked up at Derek and smiled. “Call me when you arrive, okay? Keep me updated or I’ll worry.”

Derek huffed. “Of course.”

 

*

 

The bleachers were as full as they had always been during every other match, but Stiles knew that one person was missing. He could see Scott’s mum sitting alone in the middle of all the other parents and friends that were chanting for the Beacon Hills Wolves. Stiles’ Dad had still been livid the morning after he had found out about Derek, and nothing Stiles said or –really—tried to say had made him change his mind. Stiles checked his phone for the last time before pulling his helmet down and joining Isaac and Boyd in the middle of the field. Still no text from Derek.

“Stiles?” Isaac said. “Everything okay?”

“Not really,” Stiles said. He felt upset and frustrated because he knew that his Dad loved watching him play lacrosse—if he wasn’t there, it could only mean that he didn’t want to listen to what Stiles still had to say about Derek.

“Is this about your secret boyfriend?” Boyd asked.

Stiles turned and faced his friends. “Did Scott tell you?”

They both shook their heads. “We can smell that you’ve been hanging out with someone else,” Isaac explained. “The scent is not as strong as your Dad’s or Scott’s, but it’s still there. Why so secretive, Stilinski? I thought we were friends.”

 “I’m sorry, guys. This is not the best moment to tell you, but I swear I will when the opportunity comes, okay?”

The sharp sound of Finstock’s whistle interrupted their conversation, and the whole team gathered around their Coach. Scott nodded at him from Finstock’s side.

They won.

 

*

 

_Stiles,_

_Guatemala is such a fascinating place. If I wasn’t here to track Kate down and have my money back, I would spend the entire time taking pictures. I’m sorry I didn’t text you as soon as I landed, but we’re in a place where there’s no reception. I was lucky enough to find a motel with an Internet connection. They only have one old computer that I’m sure will break soon, and I had to wait for two hours because there was an endless line of people waiting to use it. I hope you didn’t worry too much._

_We saw no signs of Kate during our first week here, but Peter met a man who swears he saw her no longer than 24 hours ago. We’re following this path now, and I hope we’ll be able to catch her soon enough. The local police is helping us. As absurd as it sounds, I can’t wait to be back in Beacon Hills with you. I hope you and your Dad are doing fine and I’m sure you smashed your lacrosse game last week._

_I’ll send you another e-mail as soon as I can._

_I love you,_

 

Stiles closed his laptop and sighed in relief. _Derek is fine_ , he thought. He had spent seven long days worrying about him, imagining all the worst things that could have happened to Derek in Guatemala.

“Stiles?”

His Dad had slowly opened his bedroom’s door and was now staring at him with a concerned expression on his face, even if his tone was still bitter. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Stiles said.

“I’m going to the restaurant,” John said. “There’s lasagna in the fridge.”

Stiles nodded. “I know.”

John opened his mouth to say something but then decided against it, sighing and closing the door behind him. Their conversations had been awkward and tense since that day at the mall, but Stiles knew that they were both too proud to give up and pretend everything was fine between them. The fact that Stiles hadn’t left the house for a week— except for school and lacrosse— had somehow reassured his Dad, who thought Stiles had followed his order and broken up with Derek.

He couldn’t be more wrong.

 

*

 

Three weeks into Derek’s trip to Guatemala, Stiles and his Dad were slowly going back to normal, even if their conversations still didn’t last more than five minutes. They could spend the evening in the same room though, and they were happy to ignore each other in front of the TV when John didn’t have to work at the restaurant.

“I was thinking that lacrosse could be a great opportunity for you,” John said one night, interrupting the dead silence between them during dinner. “You could have a scholarship for that.”

“I think my grades will be enough for a scholarship,” Stiles said. “I don’t want to play lacrosse for the rest of my life, thank you very much.”

“Yeah, I understand. But the team has been doing so well this season. I think it’s safer, you know? Winning a game is always easier than an A in English, don’t you think? I want you to go to a good college, Stiles. If—if _that guy,_ ” John said with a wince. Stiles shivered in front of him hearing the hate in his father’s words. “If that guy hadn’t screw up my job, I would help you pay for your studies. But I can’t, so the scholarship is a big opportunity.”

Stiles chose not to answer. He didn’t want a scholarship because he was cheating at lacrosse, and he didn’t want to hear his Dad talk about Derek in that way again. He finished his dinner and stood up from his chair, walking up the stairs and hiding in his room.

 

*

 

Stiles was fighting with his locker when a pretty girl from his English class walked up to him. Stiles was pretty sure her name was Rose, and she giggled at her friends until she was standing in Stiles’ space.

“Stiles,” she said, placing one hand on his arm. “I just wanted to say congratulations for your last game. You were amazing out there. Your last goal was incredible.”

Stiles shrugged. “Thank you, I guess. The whole team did good.”

“Yeah, of course. You were the best, though,” Rose said. “I was wondering if you wanted to try that new place downtown. The one where you can make your own ice-cream?”

“I—I have lacrosse after school, and then I have to do my homework,” Stiles stuttered. “Thank you, but I really can’t.”

“Oh, okay,” Rose said. “Maybe I’ll ask Danny, you know? Everyone keeps saying he’s gay, but I saw him looking at me yesterday, so I think I might have a chance.”

She walked away surrounded by her friends, leaving Stiles thinking about what they had exactly done with the lacrosse team.

 

*

 

Stiles could see his Dad looking nervously at him from the other end of the couch.

“What?” he said, turning the volume of the TV down. John fished a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and gave it to his son. “What is this?” Stiles asked.

He looked down at the paper. The Hale Industries logo caught his attention and he read through the numbers and the few words of apology, Derek’s messy signature at the end of the letter.

“I had my liquidation today. The Hale Industries couldn’t pay us the money for our liquidation at the time of the bankruptcy, so they’re doing it now. It’s not a lot of money—but I thought I would have never seen it.”

“Derek paid you?” Stiles asked. That meant that he and Peter had found Kate and the money in Guatemala. And if Derek had been able to pay his Dad, that meant that he was about to leave Guatemala. Stiles run to his bedroom and grabbed his phone.

_Where are you?_

_My Dad showed my your letter. I think he’s in shock._

_Please, tell me you’re coming back soon._

_A MONTH WITHOUT YOU, DEREK!_

**I’m coming back. We found Kate and the police helped us. I called my secretary and told her to give all the money Kate still had on her to the people I had fired.**

**I can’t wait to see you.**

**Do you think you can come tomorrow at my place?**

_YES_ , Stiles typed. He couldn’t stop grinning at his phone and he noticed that his Dad was in his room only when he sat on the bed beside him. “So, I guess you were right,” John said, looking down at his feet. “Derek  Hale is really an honest guy.”

“I tried to tell you,” Stiles said. “You wouldn’t listen to me. I’m not sure I want to talk about this now.”

“I know I could have acted like a better person,” John said. “But I was furious, son. I had lost my job and you are such a brilliant kid—I didn’t want you to give up on a good college. I was angry because I felt like I couldn’t take care of you like you deserved to. I know I already had my chance, but I want you to know that I’ll hear your story about Derek whenever you’re willing to tell me.”

Stiles smiled. “Okay.”

 

*

 

Stiles knocked on Derek’s door after had had finished telling his Dad about Derek. How he had met him, how they had met again after a few weeks in the same restaurant John was working now, how Derek had asked Stiles to give him a chance. When Derek opened the door, Stiles could only stare at him in awe for a moment before throwing himself at Derek, kissing him with all the longing and the desperation he had felt during their month apart. Derek caught him and lifted him up, laughing under Stiles’ hungry mouth.

“I missed you, too,” Derek said, walking through his house and to the bedroom. He put Stiles down on the mattress, stretching on top of him. Derek kissed Stiles’ neck and his collarbone, lifting Stiles’ shirt up to have a better access to the soft skin of his belly. “You have no idea.”

“One month in fucking Guatemala,” Stiles panted, trying to find enough coordination to undress Derek. “I thought you were dead for two weeks. I thought you had been eaten by a jaguar! Are there jaguars in Guatemala? One fucking e-mail and a few texts,” he said. He threw Derek’s clothes on the floor and hauled him down again, kissing him.

Derek grinned at him and disappeared under the covers, kissing his way from Stiles’ chest to his legs. “Derek?” Stiles said. “What are you doing? Come up— _oh_!” Derek’s mouth was around his cock, licking and sucking with enthusiasm. Stiles put his fingers in Derek’s hair, pulling a little until he felt the familiar sensation in his belly. “Derek, I won’t last if you keep doing that.”

Derek ignored him and kept sucking until Stiles’ hips buckled and he was coming down Derek’s throat. Derek reappeared from under the covers, grinning like a mad man. He kissed Stiles and let him taste his own come, licking inside his mouth and biting on his lip. “I want to fuck you,” Derek said. He stroked down Stiles’ side until his hand reached Stiles’ hole so he could work him open, using the lube he had taken from his drawer alongside with the condoms. Stiles panted and sighed and cried a little in pain until he felt Derek’s fingers reach the right spot. He kept fucking himself on Derek’s hand, desperate for more.

“I’m ready,” Stiles said. “I want you. I’ve wanted you for months.”

Derek smirked and waited patiently for Stiles to roll the condom on his cock, kissing down his neck. “I’ve never done this before,” Stiles said. “I-I don’t know if I’ll be any good. I want to make it good for you. I want—”

Derek stopped his rambling with another kiss and pulled him down, pushing slowly through Stiles’ hole. “I know,” Derek said. He stopped every time Stiles tensed a little too much or every time Stiles asked him to because of the pain. He kissed and licked Stiles until he was smiling again, and then pushed down until he was inside Stiles. “I love you so much. I can’t stop thinking about you,” Derek whispered in Stiles’ ear. Stiles wanted to say _I love you_ back, he wanted to say that Derek was the best thing he could have asked for, but the sensation was too much. He could feel his cock stirring and fattening again, and he whimpered when Derek took him in his hand, stroking him in rhythm with his thrusts.

Stiles wanted to scream because pleasure was pervading his body from head to toes, but every time he opened his mouth he could only pant for air so he could keep moving his body and kissing Derek. He was horny and frustrated because he wanted to come again; he was happy to have Derek back and so fucking proud of him, but he didn’t miss the blue flash in his boyfriend’s eyes. Stiles tightened his hold on Derek’s shoulders and finally screamed when he felt Derek come inside him.

“You’re a werewolf,” Stiles panted against Derek’s neck. “I—your eyes.”

Derek lifted his head and looked at Stiles, still on top of him. “That was a quick connection.”

“Scott is a werewolf! Isaac and Boyd, too!” Stiles said. He felt dizzy, so he focussed on Derek’s face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted to tell you as soon as I got back...but someone kind of assaulted me!”

“Hey, I missed you!”

“Yeah, I know,” Derek said. “You’re not mad?”

Stiles shrugged. “I should have noticed. You were always sniffing me and you seemed to have a weird attraction for my neck. I knew you couldn’t be _that_ athletic when you jumped on my roof!”

Derek kissed him again and rolled off him, letting his eyes flash blue just to see Stiles’ shocked expression again. “Come here,” he said, pulling Stiles closer to his chest. He kissed Stiles shoulder and started carding his fingers through his hair. “Tell me. I want to know everything that happened to you in this month.”

“We’re not talking about, I don’t know, werewolves?”

“Maybe later. I want to know about you.”

Stiles blushed. “We won another game. My Dad is still mad at you, but I told him the whole story and I think—maybe—he will give you a chance when he’s ready. I—I did a thing for you, if you want to.”

“What kind of thing?”

Stiles stretched out on top of Derek and pecked him on the lips. “I asked the journalist who wrote all the articles about the lacrosse team to interview you, so you can explain what really happened with Kate and the Hale Industries. You have to tell everyone what you did to give them the money for the liquidation,” Stiles said. “If you want to, you can find her in her office. I have her number and her address and—”

“Stiles,” Derek interrupted him. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” Stiles said. “You were the one who did the right thing, even if it was risky. Maybe it’s time I do the right thing, too.”

 

*

 

“You’re crazy,” Boyd said.

“No, he’s fucking insane,” Isaac said. Scott just looked at Stiles as they sat at one of the tables in the almost empty coffee shop. “It was your idea, Stiles! You were the one who asked us to do this.”

“Yeah, but we agreed,” Scott interjected. “I just don’t get why you want to stop this now, Stiles.”

Stiles took a deep breath and looked at each one of his friends. He knew they would have given him only one chance to explain himself and his self-sabotaging plan, so he had to be clear and direct. “I know these months have been great for all of us. We all found someone, Finstock is crazy happy and, more importantly, Beacon Hills can’t stop talking about us,” he began. “But I noticed that the whole city is so happy about us that they’re not thinking about their lives anymore!  It’s like they live _through_ us, like they can’t hope for themselves anymore so they can’t help but hope for the players of the local lacrosse team to make something worthy in their life. My Dad wants me to play lacrosse in college, guys! This situation is already out of our control.”

Boyd nodded. “My Dad is the same. He stopped looking for a job at the same time he put this crazy idea in his mind where he becomes my manager when I’ll be a famous lacrosse player. But, Stiles, what are you saying? Should we stop using our wolf powers?”

“Lydia will break up with me,” Isaac said.

“If she breaks up with you because you’re not the star of the team, you should be the one breaking up with her,” Stiles said. “Don’t you understand? I was hit on by so many people during the last period. But the thing is—they would have never looked at me twice a few months ago. I don’t want to be popular because I’m cheating!”

Isaac smiled a little. “What are you suggesting? And, just so you know, this is the last time I’m following one of your plans!”

The four boys laughed together. “I just wanted to make the town happy for one night,” Stiles said. “This was one hell of a backfire.”

“I’ll miss my free coffee every morning,” Scott said. “But I’m with you, buddy. I think you’re right. We should stop this and lose a few games before the end of the season. Maybe the whole town will stop looking at us like we’re some sort of heroes and will start worrying about their real problems.”

Stiles nodded. “Exactly,” he said. “Our next game is in a week. Are you ready?”

 

*

 

The Beacon Hills Gazette sold all its copies when the article about Derek came out. Stiles bought a copy for himself and read it lying on the bed beside Derek.

_Q: A lot of people in Beacon Hills have received money from you, Mr. Hale. Do you want to explain what exactly did you do to have the money back?_

_A: I gave all the money Katherine Argent stole from the company to the ex-workers. Unfortunately, she had already spent a part of the amount in South America and I’m afraid I won’t be able to re-open the Hale Industries anytime soon. On a lighter note, my Uncle Peter is working on opening his own company in Beacon Valley now that we are no longer considered like horrible managers. Even if it will take time, I asked him to hire again all the people who once worked for me._

_Q: What about you? Will you be working with your Uncle in his new company?_

_A: I won’t. If there’s one thing I learned in those past months, is that I don’t want to work for my family’s business anymore. Peter is a much more dedicated manager than me and I already did too many mistakes. I hope the people of Beacon Hills will forgive me even if I trusted the wrong person._

_Q: Do you plan on staying in Beacon Hills or will you join your sisters in New York?_

_A: I’ll stay here, for the moment. Beacon Hills is my home, after all._

Stiles read through the article and then threw the newspaper at Derek. “You’re incredible,” Stiles said. He rolled on the bed until he was on top of Derek. “The most incredible person I’ve ever— _mmph_!”

Derek stopped him with a kiss, locking his arms around Stiles’ waist. “Did you like the interview?”

“I loved it,” Stiles said. “They have to forgive you!”

“Maybe they will,” Derek said. He sat up against the headboard and pulled Stiles on his lap, fingering him open. “Maybe they won’t. I did everything I could—now it’s up to them.” He kissed Stiles and then slipped inside his tight hole, enjoying every single expression on Stiles’ face. He leaned down to bite at Stiles’ nipple and laughed when Stiles’ moaned, pulling his head up for a bruising kiss. Stiles moved on top of him, his body moving easily over his cock.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” Stiles whispered. He bit down on Derek’s shoulder and then sucked on the tender skin. “Please, Derek. Harder.”

Derek grunted and pushed his hips higher until Stiles was coming untouched between them and Derek was coming inside him. Stiles let his head fall on Derek’s shoulder, not rolling off him. He licked playfully the skin of Derek’s neck and laughed until Derek rolled them over and opened Stiles’ cheeks, licking around his loosened hole and leaving open mouthed kiss on the sticky skin. Derek stayed with his head buried in Stiles’ ass until he was satisfied, and then cleaned them with a towel, falling again on the bed next to Stiles.

“Derek!” Stiles suddenly said. “If everything goes right, you can come and see me play!”

“I’d love to,” Derek said. “Hopefully I can go with your Dad.”

Stiles smiled. “Maybe,” he said. Then, he remembered. “Oh, crap. You’ll probably see me lose, though.”

Stiles had explained to Derek why their team had suddenly become so invincible, and Derek had supported Stiles in his decision to stop cheating. He still had to introduce Derek to his friends, but now Scott, Isaac and Boyd knew about his boyfriend and were curious to meet him. Derek had actually said that he would have asked his Mum to bring the three of them into the pack.

“I don’t care. Don’t you understand? I just want to see you in a lacrosse uniform,” Derek said. Stiles looked at him in shock before he got the joke and shoved him off the bed with a laugh.

 

*

 

“They won’t like us anymore,” Stiles said, joining his friends in the middle of the field. “We’ll lose so bad and everyone will hate us. Derek will be ashamed of me.”

“Stop regretting your own ideas!” Isaac snapped. He pushed the helmet down on his face and jogged towards the middle of the field.

“Stiles, if you would just take a look at Derek, you wouldn’t freak out so much,” Scott said. When Stiles looked at the bleachers, he saw Melissa sitting between Derek and his Dad, the three of them busy in what Stiles was sure was the most awkward conversation ever. He caught Derek’s eyes and couldn’t help but smile at him.

“Thank you for coming. And sorry for what you’re about to see,” Stiles said, knowing that Derek was able to hear him.

It turned out that even if Scott, Isaac and Boyd didn’t use their powers anymore, the Beacon Hills Wolves were still a pretty decent team after all the summer training. They played a great game and they missed their chance to win only at the last minute, when a huge guy from the opposite team scored the winning goal. The people on the bleachers clapped politely, but the disappointment was clear on their faces. Stiles shared a sad smile with his Dad and walked back to the lockers room, where Finstock was already yelling at  the rest of the team.

“What happened to you?” their Coach said. “Everyone was counting on you!”

Stiles let Finstock’s speech wash over him while he changed out of his uniform, and he run out of the lockers room when the Coach was distracted. A strong arm grabbed him out of nowhere, and Stiles found himself against Derek’s chest. “You were great out there,” Derek said.

Stiles huffed. “We lost.”

“Yeah, but this doesn’t change the fact that you were great.”

“Did you talk to my Dad?” Stiles asked, changing the subject. He wanted to know what they had talked about during the game, but Derek’s smile reassured him.

“He’s very proud of you,” Derek said, grabbing Stiles’ chin and kissing him. “We had a good chat. Don’t worry about us, Stiles. We can’t be that different when we love the same person so much.

 

*

 

John found a new job a month after Stiles and his team had lost the game. He worked for a company in Beacon Valley and even if Peter had granted him a job at his new company, he decided to leave the spot for someone else because he now had a job he liked. The bleachers were always full during their games, but the whole team noticed how things had drastically changed. No one offered them food anymore and no one wanted them to marry their daughters. Stiles and his friends returned to their usual level of popularity, and nobody asked them out anymore. Lydia broke up with Isaac but then changed her mind and started dating him again; Erica and Boyd where closer than ever even if Boyd wasn’t one of the stars of the school anymore. Derek had never left Stiles’ side since he was reaccepted into town, and they spent their evenings together at the Hale house. They had awkward dinners with John and even more awkward nights out with Stiles’ friends, always ending up leaving early to make out in Stiles’ Jeep. Stiles met Derek’s family when they came to Beacon Hills, even the Uncle Peter Derek always talked about. He became good friends with Laura and Cora and helped Derek convince his Mum to bring Scott, Isaac and Boyd into their pack.

Derek decided to take a year off to decide what he really wanted to do with his life and to wait for Stiles to choose between the three colleges he had been accepted in with a full scholarship—all because of his grades.

“What are you smiling at?” Derek asked, playing with the bracelet he had given Stiles months before. Stiles’ looked up from where he was pushed against the back seat of his Jeep, Derek on top of him. They had left their friends at the bowling alley and reached the look- out point where they first came to talk without being seen.

“Just thinking about my super hot boyfriend,” Stiles said. He laced his hand with Derek’s around the silvery bracelet on his wrist and smiled bright. He thought that his Dad had been right all those months ago in the parking lot of the mall: Stiles loved Derek because he had really been the first one to show some interest in him. But—unlike all the other people that had seemed to want him so badly when he was popular—Derek had liked him without knowing if he played lacrosse or basketball, if he was rich or poor or if he was popular or not. Derek loved him because he was Stiles—and that was enough for him.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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